


The Hunt for the Decimator

by NewLeeland



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Alta Sedent AU, F/M, Good ol' Galactic Battlegrounds, Might get expanded - Depends on the interest, Mission Fic, Superweapons and tanks, Wookiees and wastelands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-03-19 12:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13704372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewLeeland/pseuds/NewLeeland
Summary: Resurfacing files about a Clone Wars era superweapon result in Rogue One travelling to the Wookiee colony moon Alaris Prime. In the meantime, a company of Rebel infantry lands on the wastelands of Eredenn Prime to follow a different trail.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An idea I had after playing a bit Galactic Battlegrounds the other night. For those unfamiliar with the game: It's basically Age of Empires 2 set in the Star Wars Legends AU and it's old. Like release of Episode II old. But I always enjoyed it and it's storyline. So here we go.

* * *

General Draven’s exasperated and slightly disbelieving face was something Constantine had taken little time to get used too.

Unlike other Rebels, the Lieutenant Colonel could understand the nature of the general. While Constantine at least saw the Imperials trying to kill him, the Intelligence branch had no such luxury. If anything, their opponents were even more cunning and merciless than the Imperial Army.

So - for once - Constantine did not take the general’s scepticism as a personal offence.

“So what you’re saying is: In these old Republic files you snatched back on Eriadu, you found vague reports of a superweapon - some sort of tank - used by the Republic and the Separatist in the first month of the war before it disappeared?”

Constantine nodded. “Yes, Sir. The information is cryptic, but it has to be a ground unit. About the size of an old AT-TE walker with tremendous firepower and armour. Enough to wipe out a small army all on its own.”

“Even if these fragments speak the truth, we can’t waste our resources on rumours.” Constantine’s direct commanding officer, Brigadier Amanda Rumsbotton, threw in. No matter if Empire or Rebellion, superiors never liked it if their subordinates did something without their knowledge. Rumsbotton was tough, but fair, although her mindset was, in the colonel’s humble opinion, better suited for the Imperial Army. He was a cautious man himself, but Rumsbotton could compete with a Neimoidian when it came to shying risks.

“Rumours led to the destruction of the Death Star.” Draven did not even look at his fellow general, his icy glare was focused entirely on Constantine. After fourteen months in service of the Rebellion, most Alliance members trusted him to a degree. Draven was not so easily won though and the thoughts in the spymasters head surely weren’t pretty. If he wasted the man’s time for nothing, there would be the devil to pay.

“You said the files were part of the personal records of your father, as notes for some sort of historic volume he was intending to write. Does he know more about it?”

Constantine rubbed his sweating left hand, a telltale sign of nervousness. “I don’t know, Sir. I did not contact him yet, not before checking in with you.”

Draven nodded, apparently satisfied. “It’s worth the attempt.” Turning around to one of the aides in the background, the balding human gave the order to contact Sullust HQ.

“And get me Andor and the Ersos here. Yes, all of them. Superweapon or not, this seems to be their forte.”

* * *

Gideon Tarkin’s face showed a bit more creases than normal as far as Constantine could make it out through the sheaky holo transmission.

“Project Severance? Yes, I remember dimly. It had something to do with the Sarapin Campaign in the first month of the war. It was quite a huge affair, but after we retook Sarapin, the Jedi High Council was quick to bury it. High Command always tried to find out more about it, but it was a wild bantha chase.”

“But you are positive it did exist?” Draven asked.

Gideon’s head turned slightly towards his counterpart. “Absolutely. I can assure you there was a tank-like weapon that laid waste to entire armies. Republic and Separatist alike. Perhaps all units were destroyed or back then we thought the war might be over soon and such terrible weapons wouldn’t be needed anymore. The task force that retook Sarapin never returned apart from a young Padawan and one company of soldiers. But their report never went into the Republic Army databanks. Jedi Master Mace Windu was in charge of the affair and we never got access to it, not even the higher-ups.”

“The files mention two locations: Eredenn Prime and Alaris Prime. Can you tell us more about that?” Draven continued.

“Only that there was a very small, secret base on Eredenn Prime, but it was lost due to unknown reasons around the same time as the Sarapin disaster. Alaris Prime was a Wookiee colony, but I believe it was abandoned later during the war. What role they played in this incident is beyond me though.”

Draven nodded, his face a mask. “Thank you, General. Major Andor, your assessment?”

From his place beside Jyn Erso, a bit hidden by the shadows of a nearby com panel, the voice of Cassian Andor replied. “The evidence we have is enough to warrant at least a minor scouting mission to both worlds. See if any Wookiees are still there and try to contact them. They have better memories than Humans, perhaps they remember what was going on back then. For Eredenn Prime, according to our last surveillance of the sector, the Imperial presence is minimal. If there’s anything left of the base, we’ll have to see for ourselves.”

“Anything to add, Captain Erso?”

“Only that Rogue One is the obvious choice for the Alaris Prime mission. If there’s any Imperial presence, we can pretend to be traders or even smugglers looking for a pit stop far away from taxation. And I suggest recruiting Chewbacca for the job. He’s the only Wookiee currently on base and if we want to find and contact the Wookiees, having one on our side could make all the difference.”

Constantine heard Cassian suppress a groan. Recruiting Chewie would mean including Solo and while they got along fine most of the time, Solo’s carefree behaviour sometimes annoyed the more serene major. Constantine was glad Leia Organa wasn’t around. The princess had quite her own opinion of Solo.

But the presence of Gideon’s hologram made absolutely sure Leia Organa would not be anywhere near the command center.

“Very well.” Draven seemed to have made up his mind, his face relaxed for a split second before his gaze swept through the room, fixing all of them one by one. “Rogue One will take the _Falcon_ and travel to Alaris Prime. Make sure to find any traces you can, but don’t waste your time unless it leads to something.”

Cassian and Jyn nodded with the almost eerie synchronicity they had all the time.

“With your permission, General, I will dispatch Lieutenant Colonel Tarkin with a company of his regiment to Eredenn Prime. Their mission is to check for an Imperial presence and neutralize it if needed. It is likely that they would use the initial Republic outpost, which means once you found them, you won’t have to look for another location.”

Rumsbotton grunted in affirmation, clearly already somewhere else in her mind.

“I’d like to add, General Draven, that it is possible that the Empire gained access to Windu’s records after the fall of the Jedi Order. So any activity on both worlds, if not concealed, might cause suspicion.” Gideon added calmly after watching the exchange for the last few minutes.

“We’ll have to count on the Empire’s main weakness. They’re oversized. If they’d be aware of this weapon, I’m sure they would have used it already. I’d wager not many officers would remember the incident and could draw the same conclusions as we did. Nevertheless, your point is valid, General. Which is why I want Doctor Erso here at the ready to have a look at any data our teams might recover.” Addressing Galen directly, who had so far been silent, but observant, his voice turned a tiny bit softer. “We know you would prefer to stay away from any kind of superweapon for the rest of your life, but if controllable, it would be an advantage our outnumbered ground forces can’t spare. Or at the very least we have to ensure it won’t be added to the Imperial arsenal.”

Erso wasn’t happy, Constantine could tell. The man looked much better now than a few months ago. Clearly, being reunited with his wife and daughter and being freed from years of Imperial captivity had helped. His hair was still grey though, his face pale and gaunt and his stance crouched. When his wife softly squeezed his hand, he silently nodded.

It was enough for Draven and his head turned once more, reminding Constantine of an AT-ST walker. “Colonel Tarkin, when will your company be ready to depart?”

“Fifteen hours, Sir. Briefing, gathering weather gear, three days rations and finding a transport. We’ll start immediately.”

“Same question, Major Andor.”

“Three hours to gather our equipment and convince Chewbacca. Solo will tag along and the sooner we leave, the less nagging he’ll do.”

Draven ignored the latter part of the answer. “Very well. You all have your orders. Dismissed.”

It was more and quicker than Constantine had imagined, but once you had Davits Draven convinced, he was not one to waste time.


	2. Eredenn Prime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raiding an Imperial outpost? Doable. But what to do once you got it?

* * *

“Well, Sir, at least you did manage to get us out of the cold. It’s three degrees warmer than on Hoth.”

The overly cheerful voice belonged to Lieutenant Wieler, who was lying on his belly right next to Constantine, watching the small Imperial base through his own macrobinoculars.

Wieler wasn’t wrong. Eredenn Prime was far from hospitable, but compared to Hoth, it had a few pluses. Mainly because it wasn’t entirely white, but grey. The plains stretching out in front of them were confined by mountain ranges and the misty, sharp peaks made everything else look so very small and insignificant. But it was just as cold and windy as the planet currently harbouring the Alliance’s main base. In the crevasse behind Constantine, twelve of his soldiers crouched, ready to move out at a moment’s notice.

Eredenn Prime was a world without natural inhabitants that had been ranked as sentient. Only its mountain ranges had brought some visitors in the past, but after a particularly dreadful disaster involving a group of 14 climbers, interest in mastering the storm-stricken fifteen-thousanders had declined. At least for now. The Tion Hegemony was yet untouched by the war, mostly left to its devices by the Empire. But this could change quickly.

The mountain ranges had their advantages though. Together with the raging snowstorms, they ensured that most scanners didn’t work properly and judging from the lack of activity, the Imperials hadn’t noticed the Rebel transport landing.

At such short notice, the company assembled for the mission was the very definition of the word “ragtag”. Nominally, Constantine commanded a regiment - 1,000 living beings, at least on the datapad. But the intergalactic war left no room for such large units on permanent assignments, so the command he had was much smaller most of the time.

His second-in-command, Major Rufer, had stayed behind on Albacazar with almost half of the regiment, three companies were somewhere in the Mid Rim and the rest was ill, recovering from injuries or on special assignments. Counting in other soldiers they had ‘gathered’, Constantine had 117 - among them two pilots for their transport and a dozen rookies that were a greater danger to their own comrades than for any enemy.

His four ranking subordinates were just as motley as their soldiers. Wieler was the “normal” one, a native of Balmorra who had fought for the Rebellion for almost a decade.

The same couldn’t be said for the other three: Cumulus was an ex-Separatist who had fought with Alto Stratus during the Clone Wars and was just as much interested in restoring the Republic as the Hutts were in holding democratic elections on their slave worlds.

Speaking of Hutts - there were always exceptions. Globus the Hutt was one, for he had chosen not to use his life span for creating profit, but by joining the Alliance. And truth be told, he was the most capable of the four.

Last but not least was Junardus Rezivon. He had been a competent, if not overly capable Imperial officer until one year ago, when his direct superior decided Rezivon would be much more dedicated if not for his wife. The superior’s attempt to ensure an accident would befall the noble woman had been thwarted by the Lieutenant though who - after ensuring his commander would spent his final moments trying to discover how breathe without lungs - had taken the same road as Constantine and joined the Rebels.

“Yeah, lucky us, eh? The spy team has the cushy mission. Good weather, beautiful jungle, friendly people.” Constantine didn’t really envy Rogue One too much. He did like mountains though, which never ceased to fascinate him considering he got dizzy when standing on a second floor balcony.

The plain below them was separated into two even parts by a small creek coming down from the mountains, ice-free despite the freezing temperatures. Beyond the creek, grey and black schemes could be seen littering the ground all around. Their scouts hadn’t been able to get closer so far, though it was most likely debris.

Behind the plain lay a forest and on its border were three grey buildings that looked like they had been here for several decades. Two resembled one-story-halls, while the third one was smaller and had similarities to a fortified Imperial command center. On a flagpole, a withered piece of fabric flew proudly in the biting wind.

“I think I can read it,” Wieler murmured, once again staring through the macrobinoculars. “‘ _Overwhelming like an avalanche._ 78th Mountain Regiment, Abregado-rae.’ Does that ring any bells?”

Constantine grinned without humour. “Fortune smiles upon us, Lieutenant. The Abregadians aren’t renowned for their fighting abilities.”

To be fair, they had been. Way in the past, when the Abregadian Empire ruled over much of the Core Worlds. But in the last few centuries, they mostly got the reputation of turncoats. One that wasn’t entirely deserved, but stereotypes, especially bad ones, tended to be repeated so often that it was hard to tell truth from false.

“Why should they,” Wieler grumbled. “Soft mountains, grassy hills, warm weather. If I’d live there, I wouldn’t be keen on sitting on this frozen rock either.”

“Well, not everyone is that wise apparently. Their motivations are none of our concern anyway. Reputation or not, we would do well not to underestimate them.”

“Aye, Sir.” Wieler nodded slightly, keeping the movement to a bare minimum. “Judging from the size of the barracks, numbers are even at least. One company perhaps.”

“It would make sense. A platoon isn’t enough considering the ground they have to cover and the extra-shifts due to the weather. Plus, if there is something of consequence here and not just wreckage, it would stand to reason to establish a stronger garrison.”

Wieler grunted. “We should get pretty close on foot. The long-range scanners will catch to much interference to spot us and we can hide among the wreckage to stalk towards the base. Heat sensors could be a damn problem though.”

“I might have an idea how to circumvent that problem…”

* * *

Private Tero Vaykab solemnly cursed his big mouth. Currently, he was crawling through dirty grey snow, carefully feeling the ground in front of him. He had originally planned to get this over with as quickly as possible, but after two minutes, he had cut his hand on a sharp piece of metal he had bundled right into. From then on, it was slow and steady for the Rebel.

Apart from the dangerous wreckage that threatened to cut him again, it could be considered one of the better assignments in this year. The snow and wind reminded him of home and for once a crystal clear sky above was a wonder to look upon. Not that he had any time of course.

Perhaps he was trying to cope with his loneliness by bragging, but drawing the balance now, it seemed like it had done just the opposite. Instead of being cherished or at least accepted, he was alone again. Maybe in the future, he would only brag about one thing.

Sure, he was a decent shot from distance. Not a sniper, but better than the average infantry soldiers. And his resistance against the cold, including a naturally low body temperature? Well, he wasn’t to blame for his species’ biology, was he?

It had gotten him into lots of trouble though, he pondered, clearing away what looked like an outdated gun from a Republic walker. At first, he had been envied by many the moment they sat foot on Hoth. Blankets were more valued than alcohol there and complaining about their new base had been the number one topic in the enlisted ranks. Vaykab though didn’t suffer as much. It was maybe a few degrees too cold for his personal liking, but while his comrades came down with colds and even cases of pneumonia, he was way more jolly than he deserved to be - at least that was what his comrades had said.

And now, the Colonel had shown up and given him this mission. Had it been given to another person, Vaykab would have judged it to be either stupid or brilliant depending on the success. As it was his life that was on the line, however, he was rather leaning towards the first one.

Rounding another large piece of debris, Private Vaykab paused, removing the night-vision goggles from his belt. A brief glance brought some good news at least: His target would be in range in a few more minutes.

“We can’t approach the base, you can,” the Colonel had explained. Vaykab had been quite surprised his commanding officer did know him and the unique traits of his species. Maybe he wasn’t one of the high-and-mighty department after all.

His instructions had been brief. The Imperial heat sensors were calibrated to search for human body temperatures, ignoring a wide range of alien species. Was it simply arrogance or just plain foolishness? Maybe they could ask the local Imp commander. If he was in any condition to talk once this was over of course.

As an Enso, Vaykab looked like a Human, but the Empire would classify him as “Near-Human” - close enough to be spared most restrictions aliens had to suffer, but still second class. Their home planet Ensolica was an artic world and as result, its native inhabitants had a very low body temperature. While his Human comrades wore protective gear on Hoth to protect them from the cold, he would need such equipment on planets like Scarif or Shola to avoid suffering a heatstroke within seconds.

Vaykab’s naturally low body temperature might just fool the sensors though, enabling him to sneak close enough to destroy or damage the sensors with a well-aimed blaster shot. If their timing was right and the Imperial garrison was as lax as it could be expected on such a forgotten outpost, there would be just enough time for the Rebels to subdue the lion’s share of the Imperials while they slept and take the post with minimal losses.

It were a lot of ifs, surely, but Vaykab had served the Rebellion for two years now and had learned two facts: They were always going to have to take such risks as the clearly inferior side of the conflict and that it had paid off it in the past.

Plus, his bragging might be way more well received if he would back it up.

Maybe that realization was the deciding nudge he needed to crawl forward further till the Imperial barrack cast a tall, looming shadow over him and blocked the view of everything that lay behind it. Making himself at home amidst a semicircle-shaped piece of metal, he carefully assembled his rifle. It was an old weapon, but well-kept and checked. It would do. It had to.

The heat sensors were rather easy to spot if one knew where to look and the Rebellion did not lack insight into standard Imperial procedures thanks to loads of deserters filling their ranks. Luckily, the Imperials tended not to reconceive their modus operandi.

His instructor had always told him his mind had to be blank when taking a precise shot, but Vaykab’s thoughts were muddled when he pulled the trigger. Maybe emptiness wasn’t important though. Maybe he just had to think about anything else than failure to succeed.

Judging from the reading his goggles provided, his shot had hit its mark, clear thoughts or not. He had done his part. Now he only needed to let the rest of the team know.

A short com message would have been received instantaneously, but the risk of it being intercepted by the Imperials as well was considered too high. So Vaykab had been followed at some distant by a Talz corporal. Hailing from an arctic world similar to Ensolica, the large bipedal soldier was at home in the snow.

Talz also had very strong lungs they could use to produce quite flurry of different sounds. They had agreed upon a specific call the corporal had demonstrated before following Vaykab. It was loud enough to be heard by the rest of the regiment that hid on the banks of the river, but not loud enough to cause too much suspicion. With a bit of luck - again - the Imperials would identify it as some local wildlife.

Vaykab took just a minute to find his comrade, who had been hidden behind the next best piece of debris that was a large enough to cover him completely.

The Alien gave him a shoulder clap that would have been hearty amongst his own species, but threw Vaykap face first into the snow. It didn’t matter too much though. In the distance, he was sure he could see specters rushing towards the base. They had succeeded so far.

It was a pity he could not understand what the corporal said in his own language, but maybe it wasn’t bragging this time if Vaykap assumed it were congratulations on a job well done.

* * *

Once the initial risky gamble had worked, the rest had been rather easy. It was almost too easy, even considering that this post was basically a grave for any Imperial career.

From the moment Private Vaykap had completed his task, it had taken the Rebel soldiers only minutes to cross the field. They had split up in squads to hide better between the wreckage. Constantine had noticed that it consisted of many different types of tanks, speeders or other military equipment, but most of it had been outdated even during the Clone Wars. This only gave further credibility to the belief that this had been a weapons testing site.

Arriving at the base itself, which wasn’t guarded by a perimeter or even a fence, the company split up in three groups. The largest proceeded to the barracks to arrest the sleeping Imperials. Constantine had placed Rezivon in charge of that team. It was a precaution. Plenty of his men had their own personal reasons to hate the Empire, but under his command, they wouldn’t slaughter sleeping personnel.

A second team would secure the weapons. Imperial protocol dictated that arms always had to be kept under lockdown in a central armoury when the soldiers were off-duty. Interestingly enough, this was a restriction that only applied to the Army, not the Stormtrooper Corps. It was quite obvious that the commanders did not trust every single Army soldier to stay loyal, while such fears weren’t palpable when it came to the ruthlessly indoctrinated white shells.

The third team, led by Constantine himself, had stormed the command center, easily overtaking the two guards stationed at the door. Opening said door had been a bit more of a problem, but nothing detonators couldn’t fix. When the first Rebels stormed in, they faced no resistance. The commander - a young lieutenant, perhaps 24 or so - surrendered immediately, as did the half a dozen of other officers.

Overall, the Rebels had no fatalities and even the Imperials only suffered minimal losses. It was as bloodless as it could be, Constantine mused. He hoped it would stay this way for now.

Rezivon had placed the sleep-deprived and shocked Imperials under arrest in their barracks after carefully searching them for hidden weapons or any other equipment that could help them escape. In a comfortable single room, they found the acting commander, Captain Ansaldi.

While his men secured the parameter and guarded the prisoner, Constantine, Rezivon, Wieler and Cumulus had taken it upon themselves to search the databank for any sign of the alleged weapon. So far, their quest had yielded no results. The man standing in front of them might help.

Ansaldi was a not the most remarkable person. Of average height with black, curly hair and a beard that framed his face, it seemed like he did fit the picture of the average lower Imperial officer. The man had been taken completely by surprise and surrendered immediately. Considering five armed Rebel soldiers had burst into his bedroom and made it very clear they would very much oblige any death wish he might have, he had little choice.

Two Rebels had brought him to the room and were now standing behind him, blasters drawn. Constantine thought the man trembled slightly when he approached him and it wasn’t from the cold only. He had even been given some time to throw a uniform jacket over his sleeping clothes and put on boots and pants.

“Captain, Colonel Alanjic, Alliance to Restore the Republic.” That was a lie, but he wouldn’t be so foolish as to give his real name. He could very much live with Imperial soldiers trying to kill him, he didn’t need any additional ISB goons on his heels. “You are the commander of this outpost.”

If Ansaldi had any commentary on the Alliance and its proclaimed purpose, he was wise enough not to mention it. Constantine really could do without any political discussions tonight.

“Acting commander, Captain Xhristian Ansaldi, 78th Mountain Regiment, Abregado-rae.” Ansaldi replied, though a yawn ruined the textbook Imperial-ness of his words.

“Acting commander?”

“Yes. Captain Grifo is in command, but he’s missing.”

“How so?” Were there any other forces on this planet? Hutts maybe or other gangsters who had heard about the project too? Constantine tried to keep his face calm and controlled, but he was no spy.

Luckily, so wasn’t Ansaldi.

“Damn fool though he could climb one of these summits. Took four men and departed a month ago. Last time we heard from them was right before one of these blasted storms hit the mountains.”

“I see. Well then, I make this brief. What is the reason for an Imperial detachment guarding some old halls and a field full of debris?”

Ansaldi grunted. “You know just as well as I do, or you wouldn’t be at this forsaken place. Orders were to keep this base under lockdown, nothing more. Judging from your accent, you know just as well as I do how much we lower ranks get told.”

“Be that as it may,” Constantine continued, ignoring that the Captain had guessed his former loyalties, “there must be some information about it here in your databanks.”

Ansaldi shrugged. “Maybe. Never checked them, as I wasn’t in charge until recently. There’s nothing I can do to keep you from looking though.” Another shrug. Judging from this brief conversation, Ansaldi was the kind of person who felt way to sorry for himself and his cruel fate that had brought him here to think about anything else.

“Very well. Corporal, please have the Captain join his men.” Constantine had already turned around when Ansaldi seemed to come out of his apathy.

“Wait. What about the men? What will happen to us?”

“They are prisoners of war now,” Constantine replied over his shoulder. “So nothing. They won’t be murdered, if that’s what you asking.”

Ansaldi stared at him for a moment as if to forge an opinion on this young officer and than nodded. “Thank you, Colonel.” He saluted briefly before turning around and was led away by his guards.

“Why not?” Cumulus’s curt voice immediately asked once the Imperial had been out of earshot. “Probably deserve it.”

Constantine levelled the man in what was his version of an angry stare, eyebrows almost merging with his lashes. “And that ‘probably’ should be answer enough."

Cumulus did not reply, merely grinded his teeth, his face dark and threatening. Constantine knew he wouldn’t be able to intimidate this man at all, but luckily, he wasn’t a people’s person and therefore unlikely to find much support should he try something.

“Still leaves the question of what to do with them. We barely have enough men as it is, let alone to guard them. Neither do we have the space to transport them somewhere else,” Wieler interceded, trying to defuse the situation.

“No Alliance-aligned planet would be willing to hold Imperial prisoners. Don’t want any additional targets on their back,” Rezivon grunted. It was a peculiar question indeed. The very foundations of most of the Alliance engagements were to strike fast, hard, gather something like fuel, weapons or intel and leave again. Operations to establish bases or even conquer - or liberate - worlds were very rare. Thus prisoners were few and far inbetween and consisted mostly of officers, who would be questioned for information.

“If we can’t take them, we will have to leave them here. Destroy their com equipment and take their weapons. That way it will take some time until the incident can be reported.” Constantine’s suggestion was met by some nods, but nobody seemed completely convinced.

“It’s a risk. As soon as they have the chance, they will report our little visit. And since this lump of sodding ice isn’t worth a thing, someone will draw the conclusion, thus endangering the entire little mission here, Colonel.” That was Cumulus again and in any Imperial force, his tone and the way he basically spit out the rank would have seen him arrested. Which didn’t mean his points weren’t valid.

Yet another decision to take. Bloody brilliant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief introduction to the background of Cumulus and the Battle of Jabiim:
> 
> Jabiim is a small planet in the Outer Rim and the only thing that made it of some sort of interest for the Galaxy was its natural resources. In the years before the Clone Wars, Jabiim’s Human inhabitants were decimated by plagues, slavers and pirates. Yet the Republic did nothing to help them.
> 
> When the Clone Wars broke out, Jabiim - or better: its resources - suddenly became interesting. Jabiim joined the Separatists after a particularly bloody coup d’etat overthrew the pro-Republic government. The years of abandonment ensured lasting hate for the Republic.
> 
> The Republic couldn’t allow Jabiim’s resources to fall in enemy hands of course and sent a huge task force to “liberate” the planet.
> 
> On the ground, they experienced hell.
> 
> Jabiim’s plains were a muddy hellscape and the permanent torrential downpours ensured that air support was out of the question and the sun was rarely seen. Jabiim’s inhabitants fought a brutal war against the invaders, fueled by stories about the child-stealing Jedi and their cloned soldiers. Separatist droids additionally boosted their numbers.
> 
> Casualties on both sides were enormous. In the end, the Republic suffered one of the worst defeats during the war, with nearly all of its troops - including a dozen or so master-less Padawans - perishing in a last stand. The only surviving Jedi - over 40 died on Jabiim along with more than 10,000 clone troopers - Padawan Anakin Skywalker chose to evacuate his remaining clone troopers instead of the Jabiimi Loyalists, basically leaving them and their families to be slaughtered with the words:
> 
> “This is your war now.”
> 
> The Jabiimi Nationalists were led by a charismatic, if brutal soldier called Alto Stratus, the name being a pun on the Altostratus cloud. While a villain, Stratus made several really good points about war and the Republic. Overall, I loved the comic arc because it managed to portray the sheer brutality of war and how the Republic was rotten - including anti-Jedi propaganda.
> 
> Cumulus is named after another type of cloud and after a Roman officer in the Asterix comics - I couldn’t resist. Contrary to the mild-mannered Stratocumulus, who dreads returning to Gaul and a good smacking by its inhabitants, Cumulus surely isn’t that “nice”.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think about it, I might expand it.
> 
> And please, if you have any questions (about the OCs, other stuff), ask them! As this is set in the AU I'm never gonna write, a lot can be confusing. :D


End file.
